Ahahahahahahahaha! How much do I love going to Longs and buying birth control pills and a case of beer? The girl at the register asked me if I wanted paper or plastic, and I said I didn't need a bag, to which she quite shockedly replied, "Not even for the prescription?" What she was actually saying was, "Do you really want people to know that you're a drunk AND a slut?" I should have tacked some lube and roofies onto my purchase.
And here's the obligatory Tom-D'no-touched-my-nipple section. It was through my shirt though, and it wasn't nearly as scandalous as the Simran-spraying-whipped-cream-onto-Randy's-crotch part of the evening, or even the Zach-trying-to-reach-the-paper-towels-and-spilling-champagne-all-over-the-fuckin-place part either. Tom D'no kept making these flailing, sweeping, entire-room-encompassing gestures and referencing the blogosphere....
Fuck it, I'm starting a new post. This is from a week ago (it's fucking March 28, for god's sake!). Tre passe!
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